


precarious

by evoliar (revolia)



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Cliche, Eventual Smut, F/M, I'm Going to Hell, Non-Chronological Publishing, Possible Canon Plot Inconsistencies, Self-Indulgent, The first parts are edgy and I'm sorry okay, eventual yandere, inconsistent chapter length
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-18 07:00:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29485656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/revolia/pseuds/evoliar
Summary: [ eventual yandere levi ackerman x female reader ]one's love going to another, a never-ending cycle... however, two devotees should never mix.
Relationships: Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin)/Reader, Levi Ackerman & Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	1. 00

put the damn cover here

**00** **INTRODUCTION & NAVIGATION**

THIS IS A NON-CHRONOLOGICAL PUBLISHING TYPE OF STORY !

If you want to read the chapters in order, you can only read through the ones that are available !

Links are available for your convenience. [ **bold** = published chapter ]

━━━━━━ **THE UNDERGROUND** ━━━━━━

[ **01**](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29485656/chapters/72430236) , 02 , 03 , 04 , 05  
[**06**](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29485656/chapters/73186047) , 07 , 08 , 09 , [**10**](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29485656/chapters/73343079)

11 , 12 , 13 , 14 , 15  
16 , 17 , 18 , 19 , 20

21 , 22 , 23 , 24 , 25  
26 , [**27**](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29485656/chapters/73343271) , 28 , 29 , 30

━━━━━━ **THE SURVEY CORPS** ━━━━━━

31 , 32 , 33 , 34 , 35  
36 , 37 , 38 , 39 , 40

━━━━━━ **???** ━━━━━━

mainly levi ackerman x reader

hey I just wanted to write this because of all the levi shit on my feed

this is still set in the snk/aot universe but probably won't go past season 3 events, so an au ig

possible canon plot inconsistencies and headcanon use

and like always, absolutely self-indulgent !

hope you enjoy it cuz i will

**00 END**


	2. 01

**01 WITH THIN THREADS**

**precarious**

**adj.** **━ dependent on the will or pleasure of another;  
** **liable to be withdrawn or lost at the will of another**

She passes the men unloading goods as discreetly as she could, with her hands folded behind her back and eyes hiding intent. Her small presence made her invisible. Once she found their attention elsewhere, she performed a quick side shuffle to snatch two loaves off an exposed crate. She then hides the bread by her side and out of their sight until she goes into a dark alley. 

_Yes..!_

A relieved sigh instantly leaves her mouth, for she successfully met today's quota without any repercussions. She peeked out the corner to see if she could steal again, but sadly they were already hauling the crates inside plus the cart was preparing to leave. She's not disappointed since she knew not to have high hopes for anything.

With valuables in her grasp, she steadily made her way back home, also making a few turns to throw off any pursuers. She stops in front of the wooden knob-less door, her knuckles give a rhythmic rap. A few seconds pass and a young brunette girl with eyes of the same hue opens the door. A glistening pocketknife waits on her right but retreats upon seeing her older sister. The two loaves in the eldest's arms brought them both a pleasing joy, they ushered themselves inside to celebrate in private. 

The residency was a small windowless room hidden amongst a clump of connected houses, reminiscent to an abandoned tool shed. It was a bit ruined on the inside yet overall still habitable. After a bit of cleaning and constant maintenance, it's become a home. Their home. One wall kept a fireplace, which warmed her up immediately; another wall led into a small bathroom. One corner had stacked chests, cases, and other belongings; another corner had makeshift futons and blankets, a place to sleep. Growing accustomed to the size would make anyone believe it was a house of many rooms. 

━━━━━━ 

There was an exchange: you gave up the bread to Ivy, and she returned the knife. You grabbed the pocketknife to secure it in a sheath on your belt while she set the bread inside one of the many food baskets they kept. She would take a moment to count what they have and then relay it back to ___, her finger cutely draws in the air as she did so. 

"Five Potatoes, three bread, two cabbage heads, and one carrot."

You smiled, it was the most they've gotten in a while. "Two weeks before they spoil. We could also save some just in case..." 

"But," she looked downcast, "we stole it..."

There it is. That troublesome side of hers that always seems to come back up, no matter how many times you reassure her. You knew its existence formed from your late mother's teachings— you'll never forgive her for that. Teaching a child to be honest, kind, and selfless in this world would only lead themselves to their own demise.

Never once did you think those teachings were right. Maybe some adults thought it was a sort of mercy so their children could die peacefully, believing that dying with a pure heart of no regrets was the best they could give. Those kinds of adults sickened you; what kind of parents would only worry about their child's death instead of their future? Unfortunately for them, you are by Ivy's side.

As the older sibling, you had to have your eyes open while your sister's were covered. You are first to experience and witness all kinds of troubles: you heard and understood whenever your parents fought about something, whether it be about money or food shortage; you are used to seeing theft and not being able to report it; you are used to apprehensively gripping a weapon whenever you went down the streets. At first you hated it, always wondering why it had to be this way, but now you are thankful, for without the birth of these habits Ivy would be dead by now.

"We steal to live, just like many others out there."

Her expression doesn't change. "But they're not ours..! I can't eat—"

"Ivy, like I said before, this is only temporary. I'm trying my best to find a job together with keeping ourselves fed." Another desperate use of a half truth.

Finally she meets your eyes. "Okay..."

Even after so long, Ivy's views never change, and show no signs of changing either. Forcing her to understand wasn't an option because it'll lead to something worse; you knew some things can't be helped. So now you only worry about her health, like making sure that she eats, is safe at home, and most importantly, happy. Seeing Ivy cry or frown naturally chokes your heart, so a few lies could never compare to that pain. But at least it wasn't a lie entirely. 

━━━━━━ 

_"We have to leave— this place isn't safe..!" Father._

_"Shh. Lower your voice or you'll wake them. What is wrong..?" Mother._

_"I-I didn't pay off my debt to those men before..! There's no money— we have to get out of here..!"_

_"Dear, don't worry..."_

_"B-But the kids..! They'll be—"_

_"You can leave if you want to..."_

_"What..? How could you say that..?"_

_"If you want to run away, I don't blame you."_

_The bedroom door was left open with just a crack, yet you could hear everything they said._

_"O-Okay then... I'll leave, but only for tonight..! I'll be back tom—"_

_"You don't need to come back."_

_You always kept your suspicions to yourself, though from what you just heard now, proved them all right. Your parents are insane. Not only do they treat their children's lives so easily, but they are also selfish, irresponsible, and just pure psychopaths._

_The door creaks slightly and you close your eyes immediately, pretending to be asleep. It was your mother who opened the door, you can tell by the uncanny lovesick sigh that frequently leaves her mouth. Her gaze lingered on you and your sister's vulnerable forms. Her stare is somehow drilling holes into you, as if she knew you are awake or threatens you to move. You felt fear but did not move._

_After a few excruciating seconds, she finally shuts the door; the lights are put out and her steps fade into her bedroom. You open your eyes to stare at the window in deep thought. A soft glittering yellow enters through the curtains, created by the flickering streetlamps outside._

_The better choice was to leave, you knew, but why did your body hesitate? Why does a part of your mind search for reasons to stay? Has your mother tamed your unconsciousness?_

_No. That's not true at all._

━━━━━━ 

Her trustworthy internal clock wakes her up for the new day. Ivy snores peacefully beside her, making her feel at ease. She quietly pulls herself off the futon and made her way to their belongings. After changing into another inconspicuous outfit, always with a shawl to cover her face, she tidies her hair in a ponytail with thin threads.

Ivy stirs, "___..?"

"I was just about to wake you." She plucks off a bit of bread from the basket and approaches her, "Here."

"Thank you." She takes the piece and pops it in her mouth, "Did you eat already?"

"Yes." A lie. "I'm going to head out now," she safely hands her the pocketknife, "Remember to stay alert."

"Okay..! Come back soon..!" 

━━━━━━ 

"HEY! WHA' YA THINK YOU'RE—?!"

You carry the three apples in your shirt as you ran off. Getting three instead of two was absolutely a greedy move, but you had your reasons. When you saw those apples in a barrel, you knew you just had to steal some; they are Ivy's favorite after all.

The yelling and footsteps that follow tell you that today was another annoying chase. And like always, you made your way through the same familiar streets, farther and farther from your home. Thanks to your determined nature, your stamina appeared infinite to them, which usually gives your pursuers no choice but to let you go. However this time the henchmen are athletic, different from the chubby and alcoholic bums you loved chuckling to.

It has already been a few minutes of climbing gates and running on rooftops so your legs start to feel weak, yet when you take a glance they don't seem tired at all. Only three apples and they would chase a kid to the edges of the Underground— _unbelievable_. The two must be getting paid quite handsomely, that had to be the reason.

When you fumbled on your last jump to another platform, you noticed the rhythm of their steps multiply. It was then you realized that they were waiting for you to give up, not the other way around. This was worrying because you were about to take a turn that went back home.

_I can't put Ivy at risk._

Finding your way back home is not a problem for you anyways. 

━━━━━━ 

_"Hello ___." Your mother was sitting at the dining table in the darkness._

_You were sure that she was in her room before you went out, yet here she was, seeming to expect you._

_"I knew you would come out," she says, her calm tone sends shivers down your spine. "Did you hear us?"_

_The lamp flickers to life, faintly illuminating the room and revealing her soft smile. You notice that her feet are bare, which was unusual because you've always seen her with leather flats, but then you realized that was how she tricked you. Your mother was frightening for her intelligence._

_You stood your ground, "Why do you want us to stay? Do you want us killed?"_

_A soft chuckle leaks from her lips, it grew to be sinister. "No one is getting killed tonight."_

_How could you believe that? "You liar. Father's not here, and you're too sick to fight. No one's going to help us— we're already dead!"_

_She ignores your words, "I'm so proud of you, ___. You're the odd one of this family, yet you've inherited my wit and father's tact. I truly believe that you'll become..."_

_Why is she talking so strangely? How insane is this woman? "Answer my question..!"_

_"I love you, ___. That's my answer." Now she was just spouting nonsense._

_"You love me but you want me dead?!"_

_"You won't die, I know you will find your way out of anything."_

_"What about you and Ivy?! What would dad think?!"_

_"Ivy and I won't survive. Your father is already dead."_

_Most of what your mother says never made sense since the start, but this was way out of your comprehension, you felt that you shouldn't try to understand. "What..?"_

_"You should be the only one to live after tonight... The only one..."_

_She continues to mumble while looking down at her hands, which play with her long raven locks. She has completely lost grip on reality. There's no chance communicating with her. Living in the Underground could make anyone insane; without the sun and knowing full well that they'll never leave is enough to break any spirit. Sometimes there's no other choice but pursue dreams you are able to do, even if they had no meaning— your mother took that path._

_You decided, "I'm leaving then."_

━━━━━━ 

She took more time choosing which corners to turn, which alleys to enter, and which fences to climb. This was because she had no idea where she was. If she were somewhere high, like a rooftop, she could figure something out but she couldn't spot any easy entrances. Plus, her breaths were heavy; she needed to catch a break.

As her pursuers inched closer, she desperately pulls down whatever could be an obstacle. A pot, a wooden crate, an empty stall, one after the other. There should be some distance now, yet not enough. 

She took the risk by running inside a group of residences. The houses were connected, making for easy transitions. She hopes to find a temporary space to hide, like an empty closet. Its inhabitants scream at her sudden appearance, and whatever they held goes flying in the air— she felt guilt for not apologizing. 

Her legs suddenly lose footing, which left her no choice but to enter a room. She spots an office desk and scrambles under it, pulling the chair in as she did so. Her ears catch heavy steps stop right outside the door she just entered from. 

**01 END**

[**→ BACK TO NAVI**](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29485656/chapters/72430188)


	3. 06

**06 A FEMININE SHRIEK**

You were out with your father when it happened.

He always wanted you to follow along when he made certain deals with fedora men, no matter how scared you were, no matter how dangerous. There was no logical reason that could explain why bringing your young daughter to a criminal exchange was right. But instead of thinking of why it was right, you wondered why he insisted on bringing you in particular.

_Why does he want me to go? Why not mother? She's an adult. She's much more proficient in understanding things like these, she could also handle herself when things go wrong._

On a day that you did ask your father, he gave those commonplace answers that kids can't object to: 'you'll understand when you're older' and 'just do what your father says'. That was when you knew you had to find answers.

From what you could get, these fedora men liked to ask your father to kill people. You were shocked at first, but the word 'kill' held hands with the economy of the Underground, it would honestly be strange without it. In short, your father was an assassin, hitman, murderer, or any demeaning title that came with causing death.

The meeting was at their headquarters, which is hidden between an array of houses and only accessible through alleyways that had their men roaming in. Each corner reeked of sweat and booze, along with the inappropriate howls echoing from nearby a whorehouse. It wasn't your first time strolling through this neighborhood.

You and your father stop in front of an waiting group, they exchange knowing looks.

"Mr. Müller, I have another job for you." The fedora man had a grumbly voice and was surrounded by his henchmen of similar style. 

"Of course." Your father switches to that business-like tone. You stood by his side, partially hiding behind his baggy trousers.

"Ah, you brought your daughter again." He knelt down a bit to meet your eyes, "Hello sweet."

You look away, not only because of shyness but also to avoid his putrid breath.

He chuckles, "Maybe... she is ready to take an assignment..?" He dares suggest. 

Your father smiles, you felt betrayed. "She's not old enough yet." 

The fedora man stood up again, "That's a shame." Yet he couldn't keep his eyes off you.

They move on to discuss terms and details. Your father was to kill someone around a specific time, and in return he wanted a new set of knives. During the conversation, you felt the henchmen's eyes on you to replace their boss's. 

And just when you thought their talk was about to finish, "There's also a few things I need to show you, Mr. Müller." The fedora man opens the wooden door behind him, "Please enter."

"No problem," your father replies. He grabbed your hand and walked towards the door—

"Oh, the lady can't enter," the fedora man states. "I'm afraid you'll have to leave her here for a moment."

 _No!_ You hoped your father felt your uneasiness, you express it by pulling harder on his trousers. "I understand," he unfortunately says. _Father don't go!_

The absence of his warmth leaves you feeling lost and panicked, you could only watch him disappear into the room. He doesn't even give you one last reassuring look— _what kind of father is he?!_ It felt like an eternity until the door shuts with a deafening slam. You're left with the henchmen.

Their stares burned further into your form, through your conscious, through your soul. You hold your breath as it only seemed to get louder by the second, though there's nothing you could do for your beating heart. They surround you, towering, you swore that a few stepped closer.

_Get away..!_

You weren't hallucinating. They were getting closer. You mindlessly take a few steps back only to hit a pair of legs. Looking back, your gaze lands to his superficial grin, it tries to convince you to believe many things. Your wide eyes do no justice, only inviting them closer.

_Get away from me..!_

A sound pierces the moment, a feminine shriek. And suddenly after, the henchman that believed to have you right in his grasp went to touch his throat. He was gasping for air, his colleagues pause to wonder. You have no idea of what was happening.

He takes trembling steps back, continuing to choke. You spot the crimson fluid leaking through his desperate fingers, the gasps behind you confirm that the others were shocked too. You looked at your clean hands; you knew it wasn't your fault— you had no weapon after all— were they going to assume it was your doing?

"___, my sweet daughter," arms slowly snake around your small form, you also felt a warm liquid smear against your cheeks, "Are you alright?"

You knew that soft loving tone from anywhere. "Mother..?"

"Ding ding ding..!" She turns your head to face her, smearing more blood in the process. "Don't worry anymore..! Mother's here..!"

You finally notice that the henchmen from earlier are no more; they lay on the uneven stone floor with their frontal lobes cracked open, spilt vermillion mixing with clear spinal liquid. The substances are thick yet still flow along the cracks of the textured stone ground. You couldn't believe they were dead, you stare for a few seconds just to confirm.

_Did mother do this..?_

Slowly steering your terrified gaze back to her, you only make her smile. She was too quick for you— _how did she get behind me..? When did she take out those guards?_

You would be glad that you don't have to suffer from their threatening gazes anymore, but you can't help but think your mother was the real threat. You've never seen her like this, strong, loving, and terrifying. She went on her knees, using a cloth to wipe the blood smears and the tears you never knew you were shedding. Perhaps there was too much happening for you to comprehend. 

"Amelia..?" You find your father standing in the former closed door. He's shocked to find your mother with you.

She stands and gives another smile, making the scene seem as if it were a wholesome reunion. "Harris."

"Amelia... What are you doing here..?"

You felt her gaze, "I wanted to check up on you two since it was taking a while more than usual."

_Was that the truth?_

The fedora man pushes your father aside to step out, his fingers running through his chubby face in disbelief. His men were dead. "What– How—?!" His eyes land on your mother and widen. "M-Miss..!"

Your mother gave no response yet she still frightened him. "I'm so sorry for the inconvenience, sir." Your father gives a short apologetic bow, "My wife usually doesn't do things like this, I hope you forgive her."

After that you and your parents silently went back home. Your mother puts you to bed but you couldn't sleep after that ordeal. You could hear your parents talk outside your door.

"He told me I had to leave her outside."

"You would leave your own daughter unattended..?"

"I had no choice..! That's how my work goes..!"

"They could've taken her as a hostage... and what would you have done then..?"

"I..."

"That's right. Don't let it happen ever again."

"...Y'know, you've never killed like that before..."

"...___..."

_"What do you mean..? I've always been like this..."_

"...___..!"

"...___! Wake up!"

You are shook awake by your younger sister, "Ivy..? What are you..?" 

Her worried face was lit up by the candle at her side, and her tears have an amber tint, "Y-You didn't wake up when I called you! I got really worried!" Seeing her like this put guilt in your chest. 

You sat up on your futon, "Sorry, I... I had a nightmare." 

However it was more a flashback than a nightmare. It was a memory you swore to forget since the past wasn't important anymore, though it somehow managed to come back. You wondered why you had dreamt it— was there a sort of trigger? Or something that wanted you to remember?

Yet the strangest thing about it was that Ivy wasn't in it. 

**06 END**

[ **→ BACK TO NAVI** ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29485656/chapters/72430188)


	4. 10

**10 UP TO YOU**

_Flashback, around Year 825._   
  


She expected another meeting— a meeting with those unruly fedora men. 

"Stay safe! Be back soon!" 

She looks back to find her mother waving goodbye, still giving that same sickly sweet smile that hid many secrets. _This is normal._ ___'s attention returns to her father, who oddly didn't leave his wife any words before his departure. She can only assume something happened between them. 

  
( _. . ._ )   
  


_Hm..?_

She was confident that they were about to turn at the same time— it seems that it was just her. The route was different. Even in anxiousness, she continued to follow her father. 

_Where are we going..?_

He headed south, where the population was dense and completely opposite to the crime-ridden north. It wasn't that far from home; a few minutes of walking was enough. They reach the main illuminated streets, he grabs her hand to keep distance from those who pass. It was easy to get into a misunderstanding, though most are made to steal. 

They continued walking for a bit until he struck a conversation, "Has your mother... been acting strange lately..?" 

Her brows furrow, _when is she not?_ "What do you mean?" 

"I... I'm not that sure of it myself but... it's just a feeling." 

_Strange._

"Has she... confessed anything to you..?" 

Her walk's pace slows, "Confess..?" 

"Like something about a blade— or blood..?" 

She couldn't catch on. "She barely tells me anything... What are you trying to say..?" 

She could see his face from this angle, blonde strands stuck to his sweaty forehead, shaky hazel eyes focused ahead, and his dry lips curved to make a solemn frown. Her father has always presented himself as a stoic man, as he is someone who barely stays at home due to his 'job', and held almost no sympathy for his family. And to see him so expressive, somewhat in mourning, just leaves her speechless. 

He stops abruptly, and so she bumps into his legs. "Sorry," he rubs his eyes with his fingertips, "I haven't been sleeping well... Ignore that." 

━━━━━━ 

Instead of another meeting, he brought you to a cruddy bar where he relaxes with friends. It wasn't a brothel or any of the like, but he asked you to keep it a secret, especially from your mother. After greeting a few passing friends, he brought you to windowless room with dummies and a table full of weapons. He walks up to a bunch of rifles and grabs one that's loaded. He then passes it to you, gesturing to the dummy in front of you. 

You struggled to adjust your grip due to the unfamiliar weight, "Are you teaching me how to shoot?" 

"Yes, and everything you need to defend yourself." 

Considering that you live in the Underground, it was plausible, still that doesn't keep your mouth shut. "Am I... Am I going to be like you?" 

He was silent for a moment but answered, "That's up to you." 

_Up to me, huh..?_ It seems that your father is capable of worrying after all. 

You held the rifle the way you felt was right, with a finger on the trigger and another few keeping the barrel steady. You then aimed with a tilt of your head before firing. The recoil was strong enough to push your fragile body back as the bullet left the chamber; it pierces the air before obliterating the straw dummy's head into pieces. Your father perks up a bit in shock. 

"Maybe we can skip the guns," he suggests. 

━━━━━━ 

And it was like that; secret training with weapons every other day. 

Fighting without hesitation, utilizing your surroundings, finding weaknesses, and escape tactics were some of the subjects your father told you about. You guiltily enjoyed every bit of it— though not in a bloodthirsty manner— especially the stories he adds with each lesson. But you still don't believe you'll take on killing for a living. 

Due to the lack of ammunition and the difficulty of smuggling arms under ground, you usually trained with blades. Pocketknives, short swords, and even kitchen knives became familiar in no time. Your favorite and the best blade you handled was throwing knives; the versatile blades combined with your abnormal precision made you a deadly fighter from any distance. 

Father claps, "You're a natural. I'm barely a teacher." 

You safely run your fingers over the blade, "I'm not sure why but, I feel like I've thrown these before..." 

In a quick motion, you strike another dummy in the temple, however this time you threw the knife in a different angle. Your father had wide eyes as he watched, he believed his heart stopped when he realized how much you resembled— 

"How was that?" You ask. 

He couldn't answer. 

"Father..?" 

"Uh... Y-Yeah, that was great." 

The stutter makes you raise a brow, "Y'know, you've been acting strange ever since I started training..." 

As you went to retrieve the knives, you hear your father step out, the door closes with a click. He must've wanted to catch a breather, or maybe avoid your question; either way the atmosphere was probably shifting to something unpleasant, it was better to end it harshly than regret it later. _Ignorance is bliss_ , you thought. 

━━━━━━ 

_Morning._   
  


You groan as your conscious slowly fits itself back in your mind. The idea of a new day, along with more work, sounded really tiring and encourages your lazy half to sleep further. Unfortunately your annoyance is stronger, the light seeping through the door's cracks seem much brighter than before, they irritate your eyes. With your eyes closed, you slipped off the futon and aimed to change into a new outfit like always. Faded colors, a ponytail, and finally the trusty withered shawl over it all. You reach into the bread basket and pluck off two pieces, one of which you drop into your mouth. 

_It's time to wake up Ivy..._

After starting up the fireplace you went to your sister's futon. You reached for her shoulder but felt her poor makeshift pillow instead, your hand sinks easily into it. The space was cold, no traces of warmth whatsoever. You feel your heart quickly beating faster as you approached the truth. 

_Ivy's... not... here..?_

You threw the blanket across the room in search for a note— _nothing._

_There's nothing..!_

**10 END**

[ **→ BACK TO NAVI** ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29485656/chapters/72430188)


	5. 27

**27 GOOD TO HEAR**

_Is it that time already..?_

A familiar cart passes by the window, a reminder that night was nearing and you needed to start cooking dinner. Judging from the outline of the dirty covering, the cart carried a few barrels, they must be insignificant if no one went to steal it. Once out of sight you roll up the sleeves of your dress shirt as you went towards the kitchen. You wondered what to cook, it had to be something that didn't need much ingredients. 

_I guess I'll see what we have first._

You enter the small kitchen and straight to examining the potatoes. Why potatoes, you ask? Well, there's always potatoes, so there'll be potatoes. You pick out four and placed them on a wooden board. 

Beside them is a basket of bread and three crates you assumed are filled with vegetables. As expected of a successful crime group, this supply wasn't all they had; you also knew about the storage room in the back but there's no reason to go there right now. You lift off the lid of a recent crate to discover a third of a carrot, an onion, and some tomatoes. You also remember the half a jar of mushrooms in one of the cabinets. With all of that in mind, you gravitated towards a light vegetable stew; the idea of creating a stock and thickening it with flour was exciting. It was certainly a dish with more variety than usual, you can only hope Levi lets you off easy. 

You took out a knife from one of the drawers and began cutting them into cubes. The blade hitting the board was fairly loud but relaxing. During the process, you were unconsciously gentle with your right leg, even when it already healed. Habits sure are hard to get rid of. 

Small steps approach from behind, you knew who it was. "Ivy, what is it?" You ask. 

She plays with the hem of her shirt, "What are you making?" 

"Something new, and I'd rather make it a surprise." 

"Okay! I like surprises!" And she runs back to her room. 

This scene made you realize how much of a mother you've become: stays home to clean, cook, and watch the young, you're unsure if you like this kind of lifestyle— the kind with a serene feeling willing to linger. It's true that you're accustomed to theft, intimidation, and always having your guard up, yet you still didn't like that either. You're brought back to your memories of Miss Eli, how she had that kind of life before you appeared. You lose those thoughts to avoid guilt gathering. 

━━━━━━ 

Levi, Furlan, Isabel, and a couple of companions made it back. They discussed about their shares for today in the main room, so you stayed in the kitchen to not interrupt. After that they went their separate ways, Isabel went to play with Ivy, Furlan counting the earnings in his room, and Levi was probably cleaning. You smiled from the sounds; with Isabel and Ivy's playful yells, Furlan telling them to quiet down, and Levi's steps roaming every corner possible— the base finally felt complete. 

Perhaps now you understood why you kept these sour jobs. As long as you had people to trust, you wouldn't mind breaking a few fingers for them, and that means something when it's from a cynical person like yourself. You never thought you'd come to trust other people besides Ivy, it's all thanks to her passionate personality that you've always despised. 

You sigh as you stirred the pot. _And I would be dead if she didn't..._ Everyone has certainly came from a long way. 

Soon the simmering pot of stew appeared to be thick enough, and the vegetables are not overcooked. It was ready. After dousing the flame, finally allowing the pot to rest, you gathered wooden bowls, mugs, and cutlery to bring into the main room. You find Levi already sitting in a chair at the round table, accompanied with a book in hand. There was a pleasant silence between you and him as you set the items down. 

He suddenly closes his book before leaving for his room. His actions may seem cold but you knew he just didn't want to disturb you as you made the table. When you return from the kitchen carrying the stew, Levi was taking a seat again, this time emptyhanded. 

After placing the pot down in the middle, and just about to call the rest, you're surprised to see them already walking out of the hall. _Did Levi call them..?_ That had to be it, no one else would've known you were done cooking. You wondered if he did that to save your voice or because he was impatient. You accidentally let out a chuckle. 

Isabel and Ivy took their chairs chanting, "ALRIGHT! FOOD! FOOD! FOOD— Eh? What's so funny, Anesan?" 

You wipe off your grin, "N-Nothing! Nothing really." She gives you and Levi a suspicious look for a second before shrugging it off. 

You push in Ivy's chair since she can't reach the floor. "Also, please tell me how it tastes. I'm a bit nervous since," you remove the lid, "it's a new recipe after all." Steam escapes the pot, slowly revealing an appetizing vegetable stew. 

Furlan sits down with a smile, "As long as it's ___ cooking, I'm sure it'll be good." 

You grin evilly, "Then you better lick your plate clean." 

He gulps. _Maybe I shouldn't have said that..._

( _. . ._ )

You waited until everyone got their serve and had a spoonful, your voice raising due to insecurities, "So..? So?!" 

Ivy looks up to you with her mouth full, "Mhmm!" 

"It's really yummy!" Isabel adds. 

Furlan nods and Levi continues chewing silently. 

You finally let out that breath you've been holding; their reactions were enough to assure you of your cooking. _That's good to hear..._ You take the seat next to your sister and grabbed yourself a bowl. 

━━━━━━ 

It was after dinner, you were washing the dishes in the kitchen. Everyone else should be in their rooms, getting ready for bed. You wanted to finish up quickly and get to reading another book for tonight. 

Two pairs of steps and feminine whispers are heard slowly approaching the kitchen. They are the mischievous duo, also known as your younger sisters, Isabel and Ivy. You wondered what they wanted. 

"Aniki is suuuper cool and smart! Riiight Ivy?" The seinna-haired girl was speaking a bit louder than normal. 

"I like it when he messes my hair!" Ivy adds, appearing to match her intentions. 

"Yeaah! How about you, Anesan? What do you think of Aniki?" 

You wiped your hands with a cloth, "What do I think of Levi..? Hm..." As you put a metal kettle over a flame, you answered, "I don't have much thoughts of him, though I do have a considerable amount of respect for him." 

Their eyes stare at you carefully, waiting in anticipation. "Anything else?" Isabel asks. 

You raise a brow, "He's... strong..?" 

They groan in disappointment. "No, not that..!" 

You're not sure what answer they needed. "What..?" 

"Do we really have to say it? Do you like him?" 

"Of course, don't we all..?" Everyone admired Levi in some way but could never express that explicitly, you guess that they wanted you to do it first. 

Yet that curtain of disappointment doesn't leave their faces. "No no no! That's not—" 

Another pair of steps abruptly enter the scene, "Oi." It was Levi. 

The mischievous duo jump in surprise. Their mouths were shut. And then there's you, clueless to the tension in the air. 

He looked at Isabel, "We have to talk. Call Furlan." Then left. 

Isabel looked uneasy, like she got caught for murder. She gives Ivy a glare when she laughs. They leave and your kettle whistles loudly. 

**27 END**

[ **→ BACK TO NAVI** ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29485656/chapters/72430188)

**Author's Note:**

> q: why are you publishing so stupidly?
> 
> a: this is how I fight my writer's block. thanks for asking :D
> 
> THANKS FOR READING !


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